The Fourth Ideology
by Imperator Justinian
Summary: The Industrial Revolution has swept the world, leaving in its wake three Ideologies and a set of polarized and divided Civilizations. Sick of the conflict, one leader decides to break away and form his own Ideology.
1. All the World's a Stage

**1862 AD, Constantinople, Blachernae Palace**

Yelling. Shouting. Obnoxious racket. Unintelligible gibberish. The forgotten tenth circle of hell.

Justinian could come up with a hundred and one more adjectives to describe what was occurring around him. He slumped down in his lavish seat at the Fifth Congress of Constantinople, arms crossed and lips pursed, listening to his various contemporaries "debate" their ideologies with each other. The noise induced migraine was already making him miss the Medieval Era.

It might not have been the most sanitary era, but at least it was far more peaceful.

And quiet.

_"How did this madness get started anyways?" _he thought. As he recalled, the basis of these ideologies were fomented in the Renaissance, when the other nations sudden became more interested in the writings, art and beliefs of his and Augustus' Empires. He blamed the trade caravans.

Whatever was responsible for this sudden increase in attention, it snowballed regardless. Philosophers, Scientists, Priests and anyone with an education started taking their own spins on these ancient ideas and soon enough three new schools of thought started to emerge. And since they all stemmed from the same teaching, though in the end most of them had been altered to the point that their origins could barely be recognized, they were at constant odds with each other over which one was the correct interpretation.

He himself had been an enthusiastic supporter of Freedom, as its adherents had decided to call it, but when this so called "Industrial Revolution" had swept over Byzantium he adopted a wait and see approach with the Ideologies that were starting to spread amongst the populace. He was horrified at the polarization of his once unified empire, as well as what Freedom was starting to morph into.

"Are you going to place zour vote Herr Chin?" he was shaken from his reflections when Bismarck called out to him, and saw that all other leaders were waiting for him to fill out his vote. He quickly placed down what votes he had on the paper before passing it to Napoleon, who was busy passing the time with a game of solitaire. Napoleon grabbed the paper wordlessly and started to read the results. Justinian payed him little heed, since he was the last one to vote he already knew the results.

"The results are: the proposition for Order as a World Ideology has failed." Immediately after that the room erupted into utter chaos. Montezuma, who was dressed in a stiff military uniform though he still refused to wear pants or remove his plume filled headdress, immediately jumped up and started cheering, exuberant over the defeat of the proposition. After that outburst, which prompted the cloaked man to bury his face in his hands and Napoleon to return to his game of solitaire, more arguments quickly erupted, accusations flared, and it dissolved into pure anarchy.

Justinian could feel his patience finally being stretched to the limit as the accusations (and a few uncouth words) continued to fly. Finally he grabbed his brown hair and growled.

"Vanity of vanities... All is VANITY!" if his outburst was not enough to attract attention, the fact that he stood up with so much force to knock over the large chair he was sitting in drew every head in the room to him. He suddenly found himself short of breath from his outburst, but payed his constitution no heed and opened his mouth to berate his fellow leaders. Unfortunately for him no words came out, much to the amusement of his contemporaries.

Blinded by his anger over their immaturity, he grabbed his crown and attempted to smash it, only for it to get a slight dent and roll around for a bit. Frustrated and humiliated at not even being able to muster the strength to break the flimsy headpiece, he threw his arms and tried to muster up more words, only for angry gibberish to come out of his mouth.

Finally, if only to get away from the snickering, he turned and stormed out of the room, not even bothering to close the doors to drown out the laughter. He quickly strode down the hallway, not even bothering to think where he was going, until someone called out to him.

"Justinian!" he then turned around in annoyance, his cloak flapping in the momentary breeze he created.

"WHAT!?" he shouted. He then reeled back slightly when he saw that is was his ally, Augustus. He then shook his head, exhaled, and tried to control his irritation.

"That was quiet the... meltdown." the roman then started to chuckle, placing a hand to his chin in an attempt to stifle any sound. "What was that about, anyways? Nothing out of the ordinary happened."

"That is exactly the problem. Ever since these ideologies started to spread the world has become more and more polarized! It's a gunpowder keg waiting to explode!"

"This is a Brave New World, Justinian. You will have to choose a side eventually; the conflict is unavoidable." Justinian raised an eyebrow at him.

"This coming from the man who could not decide which ideal was the best, so he somehow combined all of them into the strangest amalgamation of philosophies I've seen since Ghandi, Pacal and Sejong had a debate." Justinian then turned to a nearby window, absentmindedly staring at the setting sun.

"Though... perhaps you are right, Augustus. The conflict is unavoidable, and I will be forced to choose a side eventually." Augustus just leaned against the wall, waiting for his ally to say what he knew he would.

"So I choose my own. If war is unavoidable then I shall forge my own Ideology from the values of a time long gone, and sweep away these upstarts." Justinian could see in the reflection of the window that Augustus was shaking his head fervently.

"Even if you do manage to fight the world and win, what makes you think you can stop the tides of history? I never took you for an idealist." Justinian turned around and walked up to the brown haired man.

"This isn't idealism, it's a delayed reaction. Our teachings were the roots of this mess, so it is our responsibility to set the record straight."

"They may have stemmed from our teachings but they have changed and diverged over the centuries. I know I'm not going to be able to dissuade you from this, but know that I cannot assist you either." Augustus turned and started to walk back in the direction of the meeting hall, where shouting could be heard from once more.

"It's not the first time I've stood against the world alone Augustus, but I am hoping this time it will be the last."

"Peace is overrated." was all he said in reply before entering back into the room and shouting "Order", causing most of the arguing to stop. Justinian went in the opposite direction, to the archives. There was much planning to be done.

* * *

And that's done. Since I wrote this purely on an impulse, I'm less than enthusiastic about how it turned out. Likewise this was intended to be simply a one-shot but if you guys want me too, I might turn this into a full story.

Anyways, for a few side notes, herr is German for mister, so Bismark basically just called Justinian "Mr. Chin". And as too whether or not Augustus intentionally or unknowingly broke the fourth wall, I'll leave that up for you to decide.


	2. Civilized Barbarians

I just want to say thank you to the many people who encouraged me to continue this. While I don't want to get sappy, I wasn't looking forward to the prospects of this, but I've gotten a lot of encouragement and want to say thanks to everyone who reviewed. So, platitudes aside, here is another chapter. Whether or not it's better, that's for you to decide.

* * *

**1862 AD, Rome, Imperial Palace**

Augustus sat at the end of his lavish dining table, enjoying breakfast when an aide handed him the mail. Putting down his fork, which had skewered a grape, he grabbed the small stack of paper. The first was an electricity bill, which he was not sure he could legally get, then a petition, which he quickly discarded, and finally a letter from Justinian. He opened up the letter with one hand, the other holding the cup he was drinking from, and steadily read the contents, before chortling on the drink. This drew the attention of his advisors, though before they could ask Augustus preempted them.

"I know Justinian is not the most... creative, of people. But I thought that he would have been able to come up with a better reason to disband the World Congress than this." his advisors eyed him curiously, though some were more shocked about his nonchalant mention of the World Congress being disbanded, so he decided to explain.

"And I quote: 'I am sad to inform you that I must disband the World Congress due to the meeting hall being haunted by a specter, who refuses to be exorcised. Unfortunately, it has also informed me that any attempts to move the meeting hall to another room would also transfer it. I am sorry if this has put a dent in anyone's plans to rule the world.' He then signed what I think is supposed to be his name, but I'm guessing he ran out of ink." Augustus then put down the letter and nonchalantly went back to his breakfast, while the advisors started talking among themselves.

"Sir. You do realize that, with the World Congress gone, the constraints we had placed on Montezuma, Bismarck and Nobunaga are now defunct. They could attack at any moment!" The rest of the aides started to panic, while Augustus only chuckled, as if he was amused by a child's antics.

"Calm down everyone. If we just received this then I'm sure that the others will be getting the news soon, so we still have time. Besides, Nobunaga is the only one I am concerned about. I'm quite sure Justinian will try to play Montezuma against Bismarck."

"If Montezuma can still take him seriously." an advisor mumbled.

* * *

**1862 AD, Constantinople, Blachernae Palace**

Belisarius paced back and forth in front of the doors to Justinian's personal library, which the man had barricaded himself in for the past few days. And by barricaded, he meant simply yelled for no one to disturb him after the letters were sent out. Well, it had been three days since he last gave that order, and Belisarius could not continue to come up with excuses for prying diplomats as too why the leader was unavailable to meet with them. Not to mention that the Spymaster, had managed to uncover something disturbing in a series of German correspondences.

Finally the Great General took a deep breath and burst into the room, only to cover his ears for the inevitable tongue-lashing.

When it did not come, he looked up to see Justinian face down on a large circular table, buried beneath a mess of documents, books, burnt-out candles, the occasional wine bottle, and ink. He quickly strode around the table and shook the man, only causing him to fall out of his seat and onto the hard wooden floor. After the inevitable groan, the undignified Emperor slowly got back up on his feet and glared at the General, who could barely contain a smirk at how sloppy he looked.

"I was in the middle of something very important, Belisarius." Belisarius reached for the rolled up piece of paper and handed it to his superior.

"I think you'll find this to be a bit more pressing, sir." As Justinian read the document his expression quickly shifted from one of irritation to worry, his eyes glancing over every word in a proposed plan for the Germans and Aztecs to combine forces and carve his empire in half.

"Where did you find this?"

"Inside the German Embassy in Tenochtitlan."

"If this order was intercepted, we might have time to negotiate with Montezuma." As he mumbled that reflection, the Military Adviser strode into the room.

"My Lord, our scouts have received a message from Augustus. He's requesting assistance against the Japanese." Belisarius looked at the man quizzically.

"Nobunaga wouldn't have been able to land an invasion force so quickly, which means Augustus is hoping we will arrive before Nobunaga does. But if he had the foresight to predict Nobunaga would declare war and send a request for reinforcements before the war started, then he should have been able to prepare for it on his own. Something's not right."

"Perhaps, but he is our ally." Justinian replied.

"He did say that he would not be able to assist us in our wars." Belisarius countered.

"I know. And I cannot have you away from the field to long. Only take a small division of Cataphracts, and then head back as quickly as possible. I will head to Tenochtitlan to try and negotiate with Montezuma before Bismarck can." While Belisarius looked less than happy at the order, he gave a curt nod and quickly strode out of the room, the Military Advisor in tow, while Justinian began gathering a few books for the trip.

* * *

**1862, Tenochtitlan, In front of Templo Mayor**

Getting to Tenochtitlan was the easy part. Getting to Montezuma was the dangerous part.

This was a lesson Justinian, and many other dignitaries, had learned over the years and many attempts to contact the deranged Aztec leader. When Justinian approached the massive, pyramidal temple that also doubled as Montezuma's palace, the guards on duty immediately shouted at him in their foreign tongue, which he had never bothered to learn.

Despite the fact that he stopped in his tracks, the guards, with obsidian swords drawn, grabbed each of his arms and dragged him into the structure. Once inside the dimly lit stone pyramid, one guard grabbed a large wooden pole while the other reached for a length of rope next to it, and they proceeded to tie the compliant immortal to the stick before picking the stick up (and him with it) and marching deeper into the temple. After a silent trek down a dimly lit corridor, in which only the sounds of the Aztecs marching against the stone floor could be heard, Justinian craned his head up to see they were nearing an exit.

As Justinian was carried through the archway, he was met with a blinding amount of light and shut his eyes. The soldiers continued to carry him up a stone walkway, to the sacrificial altar, as the massive crowd that had gathered around the pyramid were letting out a deafening chant.

When they reached the summit, the soldiers placed their captive on the sacrificial altar and moved to the side while Montezuma sharpened his plume adorned knife, blissfully ignorant of who the sacrifice was. Justinian waited for him to turn around and free him from the bindings, only to have Montezuma continue to sharpen his knife for dramatic effect.

"Montezuma." somehow the Aztec heard him over the crowd and spun around, dagger still in hand.

"Oh, hello neighbor! What brings you here?" Montezuma said cheerfully, having seemingly forgot why he was there.

"Your guards. Would you mind cutting me free?" Montezuma complied, expertly slashing the ropes with the dagger in a flick of the wrist, much to the crowd's displeasure. When he heard the crowd starting to complain about the lack of a sacrifice, Montezuma nonchalantly turned to the direction of the soldiers, and threw the knife. It barely missed Justinian, cutting off some of his unruly hair, and landed in one of the guards that had carried him up the temple. Justinian reeled back at the display of brutality, tripping on the altar, while the crowd erupted into a frenzied cheering. Montezuma walked over and hoisted up the weak man.

"Now, let's go talk about why you're here like civilized leaders."

"Yes... Civilized..." Justinian muttered, staring at the deceased guard.

* * *

A few side notes about this chapters; historically Justinian and Augustus were very similar, preferring to rely on Belisarius and Agrippa to lead their armies while they devoted most of their time to the civic field, law and infrastructure in particular. So that's why for most of the upcoming battlefield scenes, Belisarius will take over as the principle character.

Also, and I meant to mention this in the previous chapter, I've been inspired to change the leaders appearances based on their Ideologies after watching the Beyond Earth preview (as I hinted with Montezuma in the first chapter).


End file.
